"S-Sam?" The figure pulled and jerked at the ropes restraining them and the chair rocked back and forth violently. Sam just sat there in shocked disbelief at who he knew he was looking at and the voice he had known his whole life. His heart was pounding and he couldn't seem to find his own voice to respond. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, all that came out was a strangled wheeze. Sam swallowed hard and took a ragged breath trying to push out a single name.
"D... D-Dean?" The figure in the chair froze and raised his head to stare at him. Sam could just make out the glint of his watery eyes and knew what he was looking at was no dream. He burst into loud and ugly sobs before he could stop himself. "How... how are you... alive?!", Sam blurted out between gasping wails.
"It's OK, Sammy! I'm here!", Dean soothed. "Look, you gotta untie me so we can get the hell outta here, OK?" Sam fought back the sobs and looked at Dean confused. How was he gonna untie Dean when he was tied up himself? But he looked down at his hands and saw that he was not bound like his brother was. But then he realized that the monster hadn't needed to restrain him. The moment the creature touched him, he was caught.
He noticed an IV tube sticking out of his arm that ran up to a bag hanging over his head. It looked to have clear fluid in it. Probably so the creature could feed on him for as long as possible without him dying of dehydration. Sam jerked the needle out of his arm and winced in pain. It felt like it had been there for a while. He saw what looked like a man's body, lying on the floor just to the left of the chair he was sitting in and assumed that it was the creature. Did Sam actually kill him? But how? Sam didn't have time to find out right now. He had to help Dean. Sam stood up and his legs gave out from under him and he crumpled to the floor in a heap.
"Sammy?! You OK, man?!", Dean shouted with concern. He started to struggle again, but Sam put his hand up to stop him.
"I... I'm OK. My legs are asleep." Sam pulled himself across the floor with his hands and started yanking on the rope binding Dean's wrist to the chair, trying to loosen it.
"My pocket knife. In my right boot", Dean whispered. Sam pulled up Dean's pant leg, grabbed the knife from his boot, and sawed through the rope. Sam got through the first rope, but his head started to spin and his hand was shaking. Dean took the knife from him and cut through the other rope. Dean crouched next to his brother and hugged him close. Sam wanted to hug him back and ask him how he was even alive, but he was so exhausted and light headed. Sam dropped his head on Dean's shoulder and his body went limp. "Sam!", Dean growled in fear. "SAMMY!" Dean shook him, desperately trying to rouse him.
Mmm... Dean... I... I'm really light h-headed", Sam croaked. He tried to pick his head up and it lolled back so that he was staring up at the ceiling. "Wha... what's happening to me?"
"That Djinn bastard nearly sucked you dry!", Dean snarled angrily. "You just need time to recover. You'll be OK, bro. I gotcha... I gotcha..." That was the last thing Sam heard before passing out.
Sam woke up with a start in his own bed, in his own room back in the bunker. He stared up at the ceiling, trying not to cry. It had been such a wonderful, perfect dream! To have Dean back just for a moment, even if it wasn't real, was almost more than Sam could bear. He was so sure that it was real! But how could it have been real? Dean was dead. Sam watched him die. Horribly and slowly. He should have known better.
Sam was jerked from his thoughts by the sound of the door knob turning. He reached for the gun that he always kept in the drawer of the night stand and pointed at the door just as it swung open. Sam stared wide-eyed, the gun shaking in his trembling hands, as his brother walked in the door with a glass of water in one hand and clean towels in the other. Dean was so startled that he nearly dropped the glass on the floor.
"Whoa!", Dean barked. "Sammy! It's me!" Dean set the glass and the towels on the desk and threw his hands up to show Sam that he meant him know harm. "Sammy, lower the gun, OK?" Sam sat there panting and blinking at him.
"DEAN?!", Sam asked in disbelief. "YOU'RE DEAD!" Sam shook the barrel of the gun at him, trying to convince Dean of that fact. Or maybe he was trying to convince himself. He wasn't really sure which. Dean walked slowly toward Sam, not making any sudden movements.
"Sam, I'm not dead. I'm right here", Dean whispered softly. Sam shook his head, blinking hard, trying to clear his head. His brain felt foggy, like his head was stuffed with cotton. "Put the gun down, Sammy. You're safe now."
"NO!", Sam shouted. "You're not real!" Tears started to burn Sam's eyes and he wiped them away with one hand, while still pointing the gun at Dean. "I WATCHED YOU DIE, DEAN! I...", Sam's throat closed on him and he couldn't finish what he was saying. He was shaking so violently that you could hear the tiny parts inside the gun clattering together.
"Look at me, Sammy.", Dean said firmly. "It's me. I'm not gonna hurt you and I'm not dead." Dean's hand slowly lowered over Sam's and gently pushed the gun down and away fro him. "Let it go, Sam. Let it go." Sam's hand slowly loosened from the grip of the gun and Dean quickly pulled it away. Dean sat down on the bed next to Sam and sighed in relief. "That was close, Sammy. You almost..." Dean was cut off when Sam grabbed him and hugged him tightly.
"I watched you die!", Sam sobbed. "I... I g-gave you a h-hunter's funeral!" Dean just held him and let him get it all out. He couldn't imagine what he went through being trapped in that nightmare in his head. Sam's whole body shook with his great heaving sobs.
"It's OK now, little brother." Dean cradled his brother's head as Sam cried into his chest. It took Sam nearly half an hour to pull himself together enough to pull away from Dean's arms. Dean stood up and grabbed the water of the desk and handed it to Sam.
"Now drink this..." Sam grabbed the glass and chugged it down too quickly, doubling over when his stomach tried to rebel and bring the water back up. "Slowly", Dean finished with a frown. Sam swallowed it back hard and sat there with his head between his legs, panting, waiting for the cramps to subside. "You alright, Sammy?" Sam just nodded, his head still hanging low between his knees.
"A Djinn had me?", Sam whispered without looking up. He was having a hard time focusing. His brain was a scrambled mess and he was so tired. He finally looked over his shoulder at his brother and Dean nodded, staring down at his boots.
"You went out for a beer run and never came back.", Dean whispered.
"How long was I gone?" Dean ran a hand down his sweaty face while he continued to stare at the tips of his old boots. Sam was suddenly filled with fear, but he just had to know. "How long, Dean!", Sam asked louder.
"Nearly a month, OK?!" Sam sat up straight with a look of shocked confusion on his face. Dean couldn't look his brother in the eyes. The guilt was eating Dean up. He was the one who asked Sam to go because he was nursing a sprained ankle from their last hunt. It hadn't even hurt that bad. He was just didn't want to go and guilt tripped Sam into going for him.
"A month?!", Sam whispered. "I only just buried you a week ago!" Sam stared at nothing as he tried to think past the fuzziness in his brain. He didn't remember leaving the bunker for beer.
"Nightmares don't really follow the clock, Sam. And I'm sure that that Djinn wanted to hold you in that state for as long as possible." Sam just nodded, thinking about it was giving him a terrible headache so he let it go. "But what I don't understand is what killed him?" Dean looked at Sam, hoping he had an explanation.
"He was there, Dean", Sam said, looking back at his older brother. "He said he didn't usually join his victims in their nightmares, but that there was something about me that got his attention." Sam swallowed hard and stared off at the wall. "He pretended to be you. He used my two worst fears against me. My fear of living without you," Dean looked as Sam with sadness on his face. "And my fear of losing my mind. He had you die on a hunt and then made me think I was going crazy."
"Oh, man! That's nuts!" Dean shook his head. "How... how did you finally kill it?" Dean looked at his brother like a small child asking for a story. Sam looked around for his savior and as if on cue, Miracle popped her head in the doorway, saw Sam and came running at him. He jumped into his lap and started licking his face and whining. "Looks like she missed ya, bro!", Dean said, smiling.
"I missed her too", Sam whispered, hugging her tight. "You wanted to know how I killed the Djinn?", Sam smiled down a the dog in his lap. "It was her." Dean looked up at Sam in confusion. "Well, the Miracle in my head. I tried to fight him, but he knew every thought in my head. When I worked out a plan to kill him, he knew. He could read my thoughts. He had me pinned against the wall. Miracle jumped him, giving me the chance to bury a blade in his chest. I don't know, maybe I was able to kill him because he came into my nightmare. He was connected to me when I stabbed him in my mind." Dean took a deep breath in through his nose and let it out slowly the same way.
"I can't even begin to imagine what you went through, Sammy." Dean took a shuttering breath before he continued. "And it's all my fault." Dean dropped his head, afraid to look Sam. Afraid he would see the accusation in his eyes. Sam put his arm on Dean's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. And when Dean finally looked up at Sam's face, all he saw was a mixture of sadness in confusion.
"Why would you think that, Dean?", Sam questioned. "None of this is your fault." Sam wrapped his arm around Dean's shoulder. He wasn't the only one hurting, he guessed.
"I'm the one who made you go out to get beer that day, Sam." Sam snorted and covered his mouth with his free hand. "That's not the reaction I expected, Sammy", Dean grumbled. Sam straightened up and tried to wipe the smirk off his face.
"You didn't make me do anything, Dean. I did it because I wanted to." Sam's expression softened into a classic Sam smile.
"No, you did it because you felt sorry for me." The smirk crossed Sam's face again and he chuckled. The aggravated look on Dean's face made Sam clear his throat and purse his lips, trying to hold it together. "What?"
"Uh, Dean... I knew you were just milkin' that sprained ankle", Sam admitted. His eyes suddenly shifted away from Dean as he thought about that day. It was coming back to him. In bits and pieces, but the memories were coming back.
"You OK, Sam?", Dean asked, an edge of concern in his voice.
"Um, yeah", Sam whispered with not much conviction. "I'm getting some memory back from before I was taken. I guess, I'm just afraid I'll remember things that I don't want to." Sam looked away. He didn't want Dean to see the fear in his eyes. But it was already too late for that. In the classic Dean style, he cut through the awkwardness of the moment by changing the subject.
"You hungry? I could make us a couple burgers", Dean offered. "You know, the ones I made when we first moved in here? The ones you really loved?" Sam's stomach answered for him, growling loudly at the mention of a Dean-burger! They both started laughing and the tension in the room evaporated. "Well, than! Follow moi!", Dean crowed in his worst French accent as he stood up. "I shall prepare for you the most magnifique meal in all of Paris!" Dean put his fingers to his lips and made a kissing noise as he threw his hand out. Sam couldn't stop laughing at his brothers antics as he followed Dean out of the room.
Sam would cherish every moment that they had together going forward. He would never take his brother or his life for granted ever again.